Sometimes
by jojosephs
Summary: A Oneshot sequel to my other fic 'Split'. Biff sometimes thinks about Lorraine. Rated for sexual and violent themes. Not very much plot. Biff/Marty, implied Biff/Lorraine.


**I own nothing. This hasn't really got a plot, more like a character study.**

**Sequel to my other fic 'Split.' So this won't really make much sense unless you read that, but it might make enough.**

**Rated M for sex and violence references, and a bit of language. Please R &R.**

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Sometimes, Biff really thought about Lorraine. It wasn't really with wistfulness, since he'd come to terms with the fact that she wasn't 'his girl'. When he saw her in this timeline; 1985, she was Marty's mother. A kind, attractive, funny woman who possessed a naivety to her that anyone who'd been time travelling would see in a person hadn't. She had absolutely no clue that her world had changed around her from such small events; nothing to the majority of the world, but everything to _her_ world.

When Biff thought of Lorraine in 1955, he saw the young girl with a cheekiness and compassion she'd never shown to him. And he felt guilt. An awful guilt when he thought about her in that car. His memory of it was hazy because of the alcohol and his fury at Marty. He had certainly not intended to rape her. He wouldn't have even acknowledged her if she hadn't cried out. Or if she hadn't looked so pretty. Rape, as Biff imagined it, was always some pathetic bimbo walking in a darkened alleyway alone, and then some dark, faceless figure jumped out at her. It never quite got down to the actual deed. He really, really hadn't wanted to rape Lorraine. He'd wanted to have sex with her, but not by force. It was just that once he was in that car, he'd been so drunk, so angry that he couldn't stop himself. He hadn't gotten very far. He thought he'd frightened her more than anything else, and then George 'butt-head' McFly had come along. But actually, Biff knows this was a good thing. In all his fantasies he'd once had of Lorraine, she'd always wanted and loved him back. But in his dreams, she was always just the classic female domestic figure of the 1950's. Not the true Lorraine Baines. He'd never really known that girl.

He knew Mrs McFly. His boyfriend's mother. Lovely, kind, beautiful. He still had, perhaps a little crush on her. But it was merely because of her charm, nothing really sexual anymore. It was just the effect some older women seemed to have, and it didn't disturb him. But what did, was when he'd think of that night. How could Lorraine act around him, the other, older him from _this_ timeline, like nothing had happened? She behaved as though he'd merely teased her, when he could have done so much worse.

Even if it had been the drink, or the anger, it scared him, in an entirely different way to losing money or getting sent thirty years ahead of his time. He _still_ drank, and he _still_ got angry. He'd been drunk that first time he'd slept with Marty; the first time he'd had sex with another guy. For the first few days he'd known Marty in 1955, all he'd ever wanted to do was hurt the little runt. But the morning after they'd had sex when he realized he finally _had_ hurt him, it wasn't a good feeling. But he hated being tender. And yet sometimes there were things he couldn't resist. He liked Marty to sit on his lap when they watched TV, liked to hold him after sex, liked to get playful and joke and talk. It was nothing like what he'd thought love was. No poetry or chocolates or flowers. Just complete, secure comfort.

He knew damn well that Marty wasn't a girl. No matter how much he looked like Lorraine, he wasn't her. He was not as weak as she was physically, and he was fast, but he still didn't stand a chance against most other men. He could certainly punch, push and kick, but once his hands were in another's grip, or he was forced down by someone, his skills wavered considerably.

Biff knew that it was unlikely many other people knew what their sexual orientation was at their age. He was certain he went both ways; it was just that he was attracted to Marty the most. Marty hadn't told him what his was, but it didn't seem to bother him at all. He knew that the people from Needles' gang were probably out just to bully and intimidate, but sometimes Biff seriously didn't like the way a few of them looked at Marty. He wouldn't want Marty to be beaten up by any of them, even though Marty was able to defend himself (most of the time), but sometimes he thought about Marty getting raped. The idea was terrible, and it filled him with rage and protectiveness of his boyfriend. He thought about George McFly protecting Lorraine from _him_, whether that had been an attempted rape or not.

Biff and Marty had not actually said that they were in a relationship. They were not embarrassed by it, since most people suspected it anyway, but they agreed that since so many people still freaked out about it, it would be best to wait, perhaps until after they'd finished school.

Some people were attracted to the same sex, but seemed to believe that it didn't count as a proper relationship, so it was all just sex, and you didn't have to be considerate of anything else. Biff was sure that at least one of Needles' gang was gay, and he's got a nasty feeling that this guy thought Marty was up for grabs.

Jennifer knew about their relationship, and although she seemed wistful, she'd been very kind but still avoided them, apparently due to still slightly unresolved feelings for Marty, and Biff just couldn't help but feel a little smug that he had something everyone wanted. Needles hung about still, once trying to provoke them to kiss and grope, but before Biff had been able to kick his head in, Marty had made a smart insinuation that Needles seemed very interested in a bit of man-action, and that was the end of that.

All in all, everything was fine, but Biff still drank. And Biff still got angry. When he and Marty had sex he was always very dominant, and it was always him fucking Marty, never the other way around. Occasionally he allowed Marty to sit on top, just to give him a bit of control, make sure he knew that Biff understood he wasn't the girl, that neither of them were.

He was always much softer afterward, holding Marty in his arms, but they never spoke during or after about this tenderness.

Biff still drank. He still got angry. But he'd never, ever hurt Marty.


End file.
